Inequivalent Exchange
by Elfpen
Summary: The Flame Alchemist pays Fullmetal a visit and asks a 520 cens favor. Edward is forced to consider if its possible to be an alchemist without alchemy. Featuring: the Elric children and plain black coffee.


"I'm gonna go show this to mom!"

"Yuriy! Get back here!"

Trisha Elric, blonde, blue-eyed, and hanging backwards over her father's shoulder, giggled as they spun. Edward pointed a finger as his son, who was already halfway to the door.

"Don't you dare - you can't go downstairs without pants! Yuriy, get-" Ed ran, stooped, and scooped up his son in with his free arm, "- _back_ here. Honestly, your mom would kill me." Excited by the running and lurching, Trisha squealed with delight and clapped her hands. Ed carried his children back toward their shared bedroom.

"But I made it!" Yuriy complained, holding up the crudely-constructed mechanical dog.

"Yes you did," Ed said, dumping his son onto his bed and pulling out a dresser drawer with his foot, "and your mother will love it, but you can't show it to her if you don't have pants on. You'll scare away our customers."

"My underwear isn't _that_ scary," Yuriy complained as his father helped him, one-handed, into a pair of corduroys.

Ed snorted, but made sure the pants were all the way up - _and_ buttoned - before turning his son loose toward the front door. "Don't run down the stairs, you'll lose a leg!"

"Mom has plenty!" was Yuriy's carefree response. Edward shook his head and turned his attention to Trisha, who still had sticky hands from her breakfast. Ed took her to the kitchen to clean her up.

"Your brother is silly, isn't he?" he cooed. She tried to clap while he was wiping her hands, and got honey residue all over his wrists. He ignored it. "Hopefully not as silly as your mom. He gets it from her side of the family, but don't tell her I said that."

He'd barely finished cleaning up when Winry's voice echoed up through the floorboards,

" _Edward!"_

 _Oh, hell._ Yuriy was wearing pants, he was sure of that. But he hadn't checked to make sure the kid was wearing shoes. Had he slipped and fallen on the stairs? Had he taken his shirt off again? Was he making customers look at his skinned knee?

Trisha balanced on his hip, Edward leaned out the front door and looked down into his wife's automail shop. "Yeah?"

Yuriy was showing off his miniature automail creation not to his mother, but two uniformed figures at the front of the shop. Winry turned to look up at him.

"We have visitors."

Yuriy saw his father and waved, and the two uniformed figures turned to look. Edward's face went slack.

"Colonel?" he said.

"It's General now, actually," smiled Roy Mustang, taking off his hat and tucking it under his arm.

Riza Hawkeye stood next to her commander, and in the filtered sunlight, Ed could see a new silver bar adorning her epaulette. He smiled at her.

"Captain Hawkeye, it's good to see you."

"It's been a while, Edward," she glanced at Roy, who was scowling at Edward's failure to recognized his promotion when he'd so easily recognized hers.

The Major General Bastard's annoyance made Ed smile wider.

"I'll clean up here," Winry announced, "Ed, put a pot of coffee on. It's so great to see you both!"

* * *

"Alright, so why are you really here?" Ed asked once he and Mustang were alone. Roy looked over to where Winry and Riza had retired to the living room to catch up. Riza bounced Trisha on her knee and laughed at something Winry had said. Yuriy was sprawled out on the floor with piles of nuts and bolts that Winry had given him to tinker with.

"What, I can't make a social call once in a while?"

"You never have before," Ed pointed out. "And definitely not in full uniform. What do you want?"

Roy took a sip of his black coffee and set it carefully back down on the table. "Your assessment is coming up soon, and I want to make sure you've got something good."

Edward blinked at him, utterly nonplussed. "I'm not in the military anymore."

Roy stared him down. "Were you ever discharged?"

Ed blinked at him again. "I'm not a State Alchemist - Roy, I can't do alchemy anymore." he'd only ever used Mustang's first name a handful of times, and he'd expected it to elicit a reaction, but the General only sighed and shook his head.

"Of course you didn't think this through. You ran off to Resembool and then to the West, then to Rush Valley, confusing the certifications office and leaving your overworked commanding officer to fill out five separate change of address forms for you, because you're apparently too busy." Roy tilted his head, fixing the stewing blond with a curious look. "Yet somehow, you've found the time to make three kids."

"Two and a half," Edward snapped. Roy shrugged, and continued to drink his coffee.

"Well before you get started on a fourth, you should really consider what you're turning in this year. I've deferred your assessment for years, but the bureaucrats are catching up with me. You'd better make it something good."

Ed's jaw was hanging open, coffee abandoned and growing cold on the table in front of him. "How the hell," he said, and realized he was raising his voice. He eyed Yuriy, and leaned forward to hiss at Roy, "How the hell do you expect me to be a state alchemist if I can't do alchemy?"

"You're a state alchemist if you pass your assessments, and you _will_ pass your assessment, Fullmetal."

Ed spread his hands, "With what? _I can't perform alchemy."_

"Alchemical research is not all about _performing_ alchemy," Roy demurred. "You'll think of something."

Ed was annoyed - no, he was furious. How dare this bastard come into his home and remind him of what he'd lost, and act like he owed him something? "What the hell is wrong with you? I'm not an alchemist! I'm a state-at-home dad, for god's sake!"

Roy's whole demeanor changed, and he loomed over the kitchen table, dark eyes glinting with a determination that Edward had seen just a few times, the times when Roy had talked about becoming Fuhrer.

"You were the youngest state alchemist in history, you performed human transmutation and bound a human soul in a blood seal when you were eleven years old, you learned more by the time you were fifteen than most alchemists learn in their entire lives, you saw the Truth, you _beat_ the Truth, you comprehended the solutions to the oldest questions that alchemy has to offer, and you're telling me that it never once crossed your mind to _write it down?"_

Edward stared at him, dumbstruck but still furious. "No," he spat back.

Roy leaned back in his seat. "Well maybe you should." He reached behind him to the coffeepot still on the counter, and poured himself a new cup. Edward hadn't moved a muscle, mind reeling.

"I've deferred your assessment for one more year, but even with this promotion, I'm on my last leg – sorry," he glanced at the metal foot peeking out from beneath Ed's trousers. "If you don't pass your assessment, you'll lose access to your research funds, and I'll look like an ass."

"I haven't even tried to access my funds for years," Ed said. "You saying I still have an account?"

Roy laughed. "A very full one, if you've left it alone. You might want to look into it." Roy glanced over to Riza and Winry, and Ed's eyes followed him. The two had been exchanging stories and news all afternoon, but now Riza reached out a lay a hand on the distention of Winry's four-month pregnancy.

"Has she started kicking yet?" the captain was asking.

"No, not yet, and I'm enjoying it while it lasts. How are you so sure it'll be a girl?"

"Because she's not making you sick - considerate. If it were a boy, he wouldn't even think." They both laughed.

"Winry's business is doing well, I know," Roy said, voice going uncharacteristically soft. "But I also know that no matter how much commission she earns, three kids is a lot. If your family keeps growing, it won't be enough. You don't have enough bedrooms as it is."

"And how is that any of your damn business?" Edward demanded.

"It's not, of course," Roy shrugged. "But your assessment is. You still have your watch, don't you?"

Ed sulked, watching Yuriy show off his skinned knee to Riza, who held a sleeping Trisha to her chest. "Probably," he said.

"Good. They'll ask to see it for assessment. You have one year to prepare."

Edward's head was beginning to hurt. "What the hell am I supposed to one year?"

"I don't know, but the good ambassador tells me you've been working on something new since your sabbatical to the West. Maybe you could start there."

"The ambassador?" Edward frowned. Roy blinked at him, and then nodded in realization.

"Ah. Yes, the Xingese are not quite as fond as telephones as we are, so you probably wouldn't have heard: the Fuhrer recently appointed Alphonse Elric as the new ambassador to Xing." Edward's eyes grew wide in elation, but Roy cut him off, "but please do me a favor and act surprised when he tells you."

"Ambassador?" He grinned, "That idiot never tells me anything – that's incredible!"

"Yes, the Fuhrer expressed particular interest in a new 'principle' he says the two of you have been working on. Something about taking ten and giving back eleven. It's a fascinating concept, and would turn the principle of equivalent exchange on its head."

Edward shrugged. He'd spent years working on it with Al, but even now he knew he'd hardly scratched the surface. "If we can prove it works, yeah."

Roy downed the rest of his coffee in one large gulp and stood to his feet, hat tucked under his arm. "Well in that case, you have one year to overturn the foundation of all alchemy. Get to work."

"You couldn't have given me more notice, could you?" Edward griped, glaring up at the General above his cold coffee.

Roy did not answer the question. Instead, he reached out an open hand, "I'll be needing that 520 cens back."

"W-wait, what?" Hadn't this bastard just insinuated that they didn't have enough money to support his family?

"Don't tell me you forgot about that, too."

Glaring at Mustang the entire time, Edward dug around in his pockets and came back with the owed change. "There," He slammed it into his palm. "But I'm going to need to borrow some more money, you know that, right?"

"Of course," Roy reached into his pocket and pulled out a prepared fold of cash. "One hundred and fifty dollars."

Winry and Riza must've hit a pause in their conversation, because the number rang through the house louder than it should've and they both turned to look. Roy ignored them.

"One-hundred and fifty…" Ed was genuinely shocked. He looked up at the General. "What…?"

"It should just cover the cost of a typewriter - I saw a handsome one in the store across the street. You know how to use a typewriter, don't you, Fullmetal?"

"What, are you saying I _don't?"_ He didn't - he was horrible at typing.

Roy smirked. "Good. I look forward to reading your book by this time next year. Captain," he called, and Riza looked up at him.

"Sir?"

"We should go. Thank you for the coffee and your hospitality, Mrs. Elric," Roy nodded at Winry, who stood alongside Riza. "But I have another appointment outside of town."

"It was good to see you again," Riza embraced Winry and patted her stomach. "You need to tell me when this one comes along - I'll bet you five dollars it's a girl."

Winry laughed. "I'll take you up on that."

"Keep an eye on your dad for me, Yuriy," Roy saluted the young boy, who saluted back.

"Yes, sir!"

Edward scoffed.

"I'll warn you, he's a handful," Roy said.

"That's what momma says," replied Yuriy. Edward scoffed louder, and Winry cackled.

Roy and Riza walked out the front door, and while Riza turned to shoot the family a smile, Roy didn't look back as he waved.

"See you around, Fullmetal."

* * *

 _One year and three months later…_

* * *

"Ugh, it's freezing out there!" complained sergeant Fuery, hanging his coat up to to dry on the rack. He shook snow off a bundle of mail.

"A letter for you, Captain," he reported, dropping by Riza's desk.

"Thanks, sargeant." As she took the mail, Fuery caught sight of Roy Mustang in his office, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped on the desk, left fingers twirling through the telephone cable.

"How's the General doing? He's been holed in his office all day." Fuery stood on his toes to see into the window of Roy's office.

"Edward's new book arrived yesterday," Riza flipped over the envelope to see the name of the sender; she smiled. "He stayed up all last night reading it."

"Edward? Elric?" Fuery seemed surprised. He grinned. "Who woulda thought… Didn't peg him as a writer. He sure is full of surprises."

Riza opened the letter to find a five dollar bill, a picture of Winry Elric in the hospital holding a baby swaddled in pink, and a note: _You win! Sarah Nina Elric congratulates you, and invites you to come and gloat over tea (or wine!) any time._

"He sure is," Riza said, still smiling at the photo. She wondered if Sarah would have her father's fiery golden eyes. She put the five dollars aside and resolved to use it to buy Sarah a gift. "Who knows? He's still got a lot left to do."

Fuery laughed as he returned to his work. "Nothing too dramatic, I hope."

If she listened closely, Riza could hear Roy talking on the telephone, voice muffled by the closed door of his office:

" _Fullmetal… Congratulations on your certification… As a matter of fact, I was just reading it. Could use some work, but overall… don't interrupt, Elric. I was calling to ask if your wife would be interested in relocating her business to Central – there's a shortage of automail engineers here, and… No, not exactly. A job opened up, and I've pulled some strings for you… You can still stay at home with your kids, most of the year, but in the fall… Well, tell me, Elric, have you ever thought of being a professor?"_

Riza stood with a smile, fetched her coat, and went out into the winter streets to buy Winry a congratulatory gift.


End file.
